Country Lass
by Created to Write
Summary: The list of Hydras threats holds a name high up. But who is she? And who will she become?
1. Prologue

**Um, This is an idea I have. I have thought about this for a while, so yeah. This is a serious all out story. The only reason it is a fanfic is because it is in the Marvel world. Takes place after Winter Soldier. This is the Prologue.**

**Disclaimer: The only thing I own is Heather Morse. Sorry Stan Lee, I gave Cap a 'sidekick.'**

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><p>I close the door and sit at the desk. I want to look at the file Natasha gave me, but without prying eyes left in my apartment. I take out the file and look at the picture of Bucky. I almost tear up at the sight of who he was before. But I don't. I don't cry very often.<p>

I look over the papers and fill myself in on the Winter Soldier's past. There isn't much we have, here or before. I run my hand down the folder pocket in case I missed something. I feel a rectangular piece of plastic. As I take it out, I read the paper taped to it. '_Important, don't lose'_ it read. I flip it over and the other side says, '_Hydra intel.' _

I roll over to my computer. When I turn it on, Google instantly pops up. I changed the features to do that. I use Google a lot. But this time I exit out of Google and insert the drive into the opening. It takes a moment to load.

Coded files appear, but they are similar to SHIELD's. I scan for the one that says 'Winter Soldier' or 'The Asset Project.' Anything to do with Bucky. But I get distracted by one coded word: Algorithm. I stare at that word and click on it's file. A list appears, _the _list. Names ordered with numbers. 'They are organized by least deadly to most deadly, against Hydra.' The file opened to the bottom. The last number had about twenty digits. I scroll up and stop at the one million mark.

I don't recognize any names there so I continue to the one thousand mark. Then I'm at the one hundred mark. I scroll slowly, skimming over the names. Now there are important names on the list. I make it to the top fifty and see actors, officials, the president, world leaders, rich and influential people. A newsman here, a politician there.

I scroll to the top and make my way down. "Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanoff, Nick Fury, Clint Barton, Tony Stark, Bruce Banner, Sam Wilson," I see the trail of Avengers ended. Thor is in Asgard, so he couldn't be touched by the Helicarriers until he came back. "His, her, them, person, person, person," I continue, not saying a certain name even though I know them all one way or another. I get near the end of the first twenty-five, and stop. There's a name I don't know.

"Who's Heather Morse?" I ask myself. I click on her name and info pops up. It's basic information. "So, she's fifteen, lives in the US, is an 'A' class student with room to spare-" 'Great,' I think, 'probably a genius.' "-at- why would she be in the top twenty of this list? It barely says anything about her." I think of any possible ways a fifteen year old, a _normal_ fifteen year old, girl could be a threat to Hydra. I decide to find out.

I take out my cellphone and dial the number of a friend. I put it to my ear and reread her page. The other end picks up. "Hello?" Clint asks.

"It's Steve." I reply.

"About time." I haven't talked to him in a while. "Of all times, why now?"

"I need a favor." I tell him.

"What?" He asks, noticing my serious tone.

"I need a ride to," I squint at the screen, "Silven, Minnesota."

"Don't you have a motorcycle?" He asks.

"Um..."

"You crashed it, didn't you?"

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><p><strong>He crashes stuff.<strong>

**So, ****review, PM, all that good stuff. I'm working on the next chapter (And the next two stories after this one)**


	2. Chapter 1

**This is the first chapter.**

****Disclaimer: In Marvel, Heather and family are from ME. That means I** own everything in this chapter. My characters. YOU CAN'T HAVE THEM!**

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><p>My alarm clock goes off. I sleepily search for it and shut it off. I eye the glasses next to it folded neatly. I snuggle back down into my pillows. "Just a few more minutes." I mumble. But a second glance to my alarm clock says otherwise. <em>6:50am.<em> I sigh in defeat. "Guess not."

I roll out of bed. After straightening my sheets and changing into something decent, I walk out into the hallway. I knock on my little brother's door.

"Andrew, get out of bed before I have to go in and drag you out." I joke. It's a common one in the morning. I hear a soft thump.

"There...out." I chuckle. He must of rolled onto the blankets and pillows that he kicked off his bed last night.

"Up in five, Andrew." I inform him. I race down the stairs and skid to a stop in the kitchen.

"A little energetic don't you think?" Mom asks from behind the counter.

"I have to use it for something." I tell her. I pour a bowl of cereal.

"Is Andrew out and coming down?" She asks. I stick a spoon in my mouth and chew as I answer.

"Well, he's out _of bed_, but I'm not sure about the 'coming down.'"

"Heather, no talking with your mouth full."

"Sorry." I say, with my mouth full. I swallow and repeat, "Sorry."

"Your forgiven. Milk?"

"Oh!" I open the fridge and pour milk into my bowl and a cup. I walk over and sit in the favorite spot of my siblings.

"Do you think you could lend your excess energy to your brother and sister?"

"Don't think so. I need it; I'm running the mile in gym today." I decline. I finish half of my breakfast when Andrew comes down the stairs, still groggy. He notices where I'm sitting.

"Aww! I wanted the seat!" he says, coming to his senses.

"Next time you should get that butt of yours down the stairs sooner, little bro." I answer. He grabs a plate of scrambled eggs Mom made and sits next to me.

"Thanks Mom." He says.

"Did you see Lesley on your way here?" She asks.

"Trudging to the bathroom, yes. Ready to come eat, no, not really." Andrew answers while eating an egg. I smile. Lesley has a tendency to go to the bathroom and then go back to sleep. I take a few more bites.

"Do you want me to get her Mom?" I ask.

"No, you need to get to school. I'll deal with your sister." She answers. Mom goes upstairs to get my eight year old sister up. Andrew picks at his eggs and gulps a little milk. He sighs dreamily.

"Love sick?" I ask. He starts and jabs at a yolk.

"No. I'm just tired okay." He says, quickly. I chuckle. '_Twelve years old and already crushing.'_

"Your secret is safe with me." I promise.

"Where's Dad?" He asks, changing the subject.

"He goes to work early on Thursdays." I remind him. We continue eating in silence. Mom comes back down, Leslie trailing after her. "Morning Leslie!" I say cheerily. She grunts and gets a plate. I finish my bowl and get up. As I set it in the sink, my siblings fight over who gets 'the seat.' I go up the stairs to get dressed.

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><p><strong>Not entirely done with this one yet. I'm having a writer's block.<strong>

**But, the outline from before is written out. Thanks for reading!**


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